Impossible
by elliejelliebean
Summary: As he runs through the woods, Jacob Black dwells on the agonizing truth: the one thing that he wants in his life is the one thing that is impossible for him to attain. EdwardxBella, One-Shot


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A/N: This is something I wrote a lllloooonnnnggg time ago, right after Eclipse came out; I happened upon it today when searching for another document. Therefore, it is probably a little lacking, but I hope you still enjoy. I wrote it to better understand Jacob and lament with him, for a little while, about his situation. Poor kid. :(

Impossible

I remember a time when I was about five years old. I wanted to climb a tree, a really tall tree that looked as if it was impossible to get up. I didn't think I could. I spoke to my mom at breakfast. "Mommy, I want to climb that tree," I told her, pointing to the tall and ominous figure that stood in our backyard.

Most mothers would probably advise against it. But my Mom was different. She wasn't afraid of us getting hurt, and although she worried fleetingly sometimes about the possibility of our deaths, she didn't agonize over it. She had mastered the inevitability of some things in life, and I can see now that that allowed her to enjoy it so much more.

"Go and climb it, then," she said, putting my second helping of pancakes on the table in front of me. "You can do it."

"But it's impossible!" I complained. It really was very tall.

"Anything is possible, Jake," she said, her soft, brown leather hand resting on my shoulder.

* * *

I had assumed then, because I was five years old and when you are five years old anything that your mother says is law, that this was true. Anything was possible, as long as you wanted it enough.

At the age of six, while trying to fly off the top of the monkey bars at recess, I learned the hard way that this did not include supernatural ventures.

Of course, I learned at age sixteen that that was actually untrue—even the supernatural was possible. My mother was indeed very right. Anything, anything at all, was possible.

That's probably why I tried so hard. I knew that it was impossible for Bella to choose me. But anything was possible, right? So there was a chance, and like I told her, whatever chance there was, I would fight for it.

But in that moment, as my wolf legs moved beneath me without thought, the soreness such an accepted part of life now that I hardly noticed it, I realized that my mother was actually wrong.

It wasn't possible. It really wasn't. I explored my options for the thousandth time.

I could kill him. I would feel a little bad, maybe, but, oh, boy, would it feel good. It would be so incredibly wonderful for him to be gone from this world forever. But she would hate me. She would hate me with every beating of her heart, every step she took—everything about her would be tainted with revulsion for me, her best friend. Her eyes, so easily read, would convey nothing but the purest and most honest loathing possible whenever she gazed upon my face.

And I couldn't deal with that. Plus, even if I did kill him, she would not be with me, not in ten million years. So it was impossible.

He could disappear, by himself--die, maybe, or leave her. But the man was pretty much indestructible to anyone in the outside world except his own kind. And even if his own kind did seek him out, he was, although I would never, even under extreme duress, volunteer this information, an extremely gifted fighter. Coupled with his mind-reading capabilities, nobody, not even the living dead, could take him. He couldn't die. And he would never, ever leave her again--that much was clear. It was impossible.

Or she could leave him. But even I could see, though it was like a punch in my gut every time I did, how unbelievably much she loved him. The first thing she thought of every single morning when she woke up was him, as well as the last thing she thought before sleep. And I would wager a guess that at least 90 percent of the things she thought of in between had something to do with him. When he was there, she oriented herself around him, and when he was gone she was lost, unsure of herself until he came back. When I looked into her eyes I saw pure love, and as much as I hated to admit it, I knew that it was not for me but for him, because it was so much a part of who she was. And when she looked at him, it was worse than when Sam and Emily looked at each other. It was a look of absolute adoration and love, and of pure happiness. And he would look back at her in the same way, his repulsive eyes reflecting everything hers did, only perhaps more strongly. It was nauseating.

She would never, ever, leave him. Nor he her. And I couldn't force them apart. It was impossible.

And so I could see, now, that there was no way, no way at all, for me to be with her. It was not remotely possible. At all. Ever. They would live together forever, and if there was a heaven or an afterlife, they would meet up there and be together again up above, I was sure of it.

Us being together was virtually, undeniably, completely impossible.

I was going to have to live without her.

I was going to have to live without her.

_I was going to have to live without her. _

Beneath me, my legs moved faster, and faster, and faster still, at speeds that the rest of the world would think surely impossible.

* * *

I had always thought, or assumed, anyway, that I had eventually made it up that tree. I had remembered the interaction with my mother because it was one of the last we ever had, but I had no real recollection of actually making it to the top of that stupid thing.

I remembered, now, that that was because I never did. I never made it up the tree. I tried all day, and all the next day. On the third day, after Quil and Embry were getting tired of tree climbing ventures and were getting more and more annoying in their requests to play blocks, I had to finally come to terms with the fact that it was impossible. How could I have forgotten my failure?

My mother died a week later. I remember looking up at the tree in our backyard everyday and imagining what it would be like to sit up there, on top of the world, gazing out at the forest and houses below. The wind would hit my face, and I would sit up there and bask in the glory and happiness of a child's achievement.

I remember thinking that I deserved that, after all of the hardships our family had experienced in the last weeks, and later months. I deserved the few moments of happiness that would come with sitting atop that tree. I was willing to work for it.

But I tried and tried, to no avail. In the end, all I had to show for it were many cuts and scars on my hands, a wounded ego, and the torture of looking up at that tree every day, understanding the possibilities for happiness and joy that it could bring, and knowing that they would never be mine.

* * *

My legs carried me there without the direct command from my brain, because they knew somehow that it was time. I had been running long enough. I could just see the top of that tree in my backyard, welcoming me home.

Bella's tree.

A tree of impossibilities and disappointed hopes. A tree that I still loved, in spite of myself.

I paused before opening the front door. It was impossible for me to be with her.

So I was going to have to live without her.

I sighed.

_Impossible_.


End file.
